


Apocalypse of Midgard

by yourlittlehiddlesmonster



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Apocalypse, Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-03-19 17:58:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3619062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourlittlehiddlesmonster/pseuds/yourlittlehiddlesmonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just once per week to keep me alive and sated, she thought. I am apocalypse after all. </p><p> </p><p>I shouldn’t have a heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just had this idea thought up as I was watching Supernatural. I have no idea if a similar concept has already been thought of but this piece is still in the works and I'm just on my second chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: These Marvel characters aren't mine but besides that, the others are.

The breeze blew away her ragged ash brown hair against the side of her face. It wasn’t just her hair that danced in the wind but her dress as well. Her hands brushed against the wooden fence that separated her from the vast area of green grass that was laid out before her. Her eyes searched the vicinity for any other presence that might catch her from what she was about to do—not that she had her entire heart in it, only that she had to. She looked down to her bare feet, feeling the dirt against her soles as she crouched down. The hair that scattered on her face were brushed to side behind her ear, following her fingers that threaded through the blades of grass that danced in the wind. She knew she would feel guilt after this but she knew there was no other choice. She had to keep moving. A month after the other, to keep her tracks covered or they would figure something was up. She wasn’t fully invested in what she was doing but _she had to._ It was her last day in California and she will be gone for a long while. With these thoughts in mind, her breaths grew deep, her fingertips felt the coolness of field and then she closed her eyes.

Slowly, green turned brown—black to ashes. The ground beneath her feet cracked in drought, crumbling easy to the weight of her. The darkness and crept up on the field as fast as it came. She opened her eyes suddenly, removing her hands that clutched the now disintegrating grass. Her feet stepped back and she felt the oncoming guilt that flooded through her. _Just once per week to keep me alive and sated,_ she thought. _I am apocalypse after all._

_I shouldn’t have a heart._

 

 

He held a man against a wall with a single hand as if the man weighed naught but a bag of cotton. Terror filled the man’s eyes as his nails clawed against the hand of his captor, trying not to suffocate too soon, his feet thrashing wildly from where he hung.

“Filthy creature, do tell me where I am, and soon if you value your pitiful life.” Loki said monotonously.

The man held his fingers against Loki’s hand, trying to him off from choking him as he sobbed an answer. “Y-you here in R-reykj-a-v-vik.”

Loki considered snapping his neck but decided against it. “Reykjavik?” The word rolled of his tongue and realized it was Midgard he landed in. He let go of the man’s neck and saw him run off, looking back from where he stood. _Nobody would ever believe him,_ he thought.

“Where do I start?” He asked himself as he started walking, using his magic to transform his garb into that of what was acceptable to Midgard.

 

 

She hid herself beneath her hooded jacket and kept her head down low as she walked through the empty streets of Reykjavik. She tried to live off the least unpopulated areas of Europe but, somehow she ended up in the capital of Iceland. Her feet clicked on the pavement as she held her clothing closer to shield her off the cold weather. Her gaze was kept low and her feet paced. Her thoughts drowned her as she walked. She wanted to get home to her flat so much to avoid anyone and everything, just another day to—

“S-sorry! Uhh— I—“ she muttered as her head bumped against someone’s chest, her hands shooting up in defense. A hand went to her shoulders to steady her but she quickly shrugged it off before it touched her and she felt herself peeking from under her hood to gaze up at the wall she hit.

“You definitely weren’t paying attention.” The man’s voice said.

She stared up at him and looked oddly at his sleeked black hair and the dark coat that hung on his body, paired with a striped green scarf that peeked from under his lapels. She noticed this thick air of arrogance that surrounded him and shook her head, throwing her hood aback in the process.

He brushed his coat with his hand as if filth covered it and looked at her face that was hid behind a waterfall of ashen hair, fighting the urge to move it away with his fingers to unveil the rest of her.

“I’m sorry, _Sir._ ” She hissed as she sidestepped and rushing to get away from him, catching her footsteps with an aim to reach her flat as soon as possible.

A hand grabbed her arm and noticed it was the man she bumped, “Loki, and y—” He was cut off and hissed to himself, pulling his hand away from her. It wasn’t a question, nor a statement. It was like he expected her to swallow what he said in its entirety. She looked back and stared at his ocean blue eyes, looking from his face to his hand that reddened. It had burned him.

Loki, she figured his name was. Loki looked agitated and confused, his jaw tensed, conflicted between asking her further questions and punishing her for her insolence.

She decided it was probably consolation enough to tell him her name, for burning his hand; though it was not in any way her fault.

“Calypso.” She whispered, her head down low once again as she ran away, leaving him standing there clutching his hand into a fist.


	2. Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm back because I found time to write despite my intense schedule.  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's a bit short.

The day began with Calypso staring off into the ceiling, her mind drifting off into nothingness when the siren of her alarm clock brought her out of her stupor. Her eyes travelled from the cracked paint of her beige ceiling to her bedside table.

_7:00 A.M,_ it read. Time was fast this time around. Most nights she would aimlessly glance back and forth her clock and ceiling, waiting for time to kill itself. It was not much of an agony to be unable to achieve sleep most of the time, even if it slightly took a physical toll on her. She was as human as the next person only with different needs and different abilities. She sighed, _not as human._

She jumped off her bed and walked to the bathroom to get ready. Calypso stared at herself in the mirror for a moment, taking in her unusual features. Amber eyes, hinting a bit of red—which meant that she didn’t need any “food” any time soon. Her skin pale, as always, her hair, ashen and her lips almost as pale as her skin.

“If only I looked less like death and more like—I don’t know, war or something.” She muttered under her breath, pulling apart the tangles of her hair.

She filled her tub with water and submerged herself in it, slowly losing herself in the calm of the water, which somehow always had a better effect on her than sleep. Her consciousness stilled and she felt her body flowing on the stillness of the water.

_“Calypso…”_ she thought she heard over and over again against her hear. She heard her name in a low menacing whisper and she almost believed she felt a breath on the side of her neck, icy even, and it wasn’t the bath. She struggled to pull herself from her trance using both of her hands to pull up from the tub. Her body slightly shivered from the cold air hitting her body, remembering that she forgot to bring a towel with her. Disbelief crossed her when her eyes travelled to where she usually hung her towel, seeing a green cloth in its place. Stepping out of the tub, water riveted down her skin as she slowly inched closer to the cloth that was new to her eyes. She ran her fingertips against it, feeling the softness like pure cotton. She held the towel against her body, letting it envelop her and dry her off from the cold, forgetting the unusual appearance of the material on her hands.

 

She stepped in the local coffeeshop she frequented the past few days for its secluded area. Only this time, there was an overly affectionate couple in front of her in line, trying to choose what to order.

“I’m getting what you’re getting.” The girl said to her boyfriend, clutching on his arm like a leech.

“I want something as sweet as you!” He replied to his girl.

“What about the—“ _UGH._ Calypso, groaned at that point and stopped listening. She focused her breathing and slightly brushed up against the guy’s shoulder. _War._

“Why can’t you just make up your fucking mind?!” The guy snapped.

“You’re the one who chose this poor excuse for a coffee shop!” The girl replied, pushing her boyfriend out of the line to argue.

At that moment, she sidestepped to claim the couple’s place in the line and ordered the usual go-to drink she had. “Macchiato, 3 shots of espresso.” She smirked at the cashier who was ogling at the arguing couple who was now being hauled by the security guard.

Calypso took her drink and settled at the farthest two seat table and twisted her cup left and right as thoughts of guilt tried to cross her mind. It quickly died down as soon as it rose up. She brought up her cup to her lips and savored the warm liquid flowing down her throat, the bitter taste of it against her lips.

“That was quite a spectacle, _Calypso._ ” She looked up to where her name was hissed in contempt, her eyes locking with Loki.

“What spectacle is this you speak of?” She asked, matching his manner of speaking as a ruse.

“The lovers. You caused their argument. I am not aware of how but I am certain it is you.” Loki answered so surely. He would figure out how she did it someday, he thought.

“If I knew better, I’d put the blame on you, God of Mischief.” She said nonchalantly.

Her jest surprised Loki. _Did she know where I hail from?_ “What did you say?”

“Isn’t that who you were named after? Loki, Norse God of Mischief, son of Odin— _Laufey._ ” She snorted, gesturing to the empty seat in front of her.

Loki looked insulted and slammed his palm down the table, making Calypso’s coffee shake upon impact, remembering to avoid contact with her skin lest he want his to burn once again like paper to a fire. His cold blue eyes looked directly into Calypso’s eyes, his nostrils flared in anger and his jaw tightened, hissing to her. “How dare you, you meager Midgardian.”

She matched his cold stare and demeanor, never faltering one bit. “Why are you so affected?” She wondered. Everything she had said was how it was in the myths. _Did I strike a nerve of some sort? Why the hell did he call me Midgardian?_

“I am Loki of Asgard, you filthy Midgardian, I could turn you into ashes with a flick of my wrist.” He didn’t know what caused him to make this affirmation and threat to someone he barely knew. She did not matter to him a bit yet he sat down and watched this curious woman in front of her.

Calypso bellowed in laughter, almost doubling over her seat, wiping a tear from her eye as she calmed down. Her coffee almost sputtered out from her mouth from forcing her laugh to die back down. She honestly believed he was Loki the Norse God. _How unusual can it be meeting a god, when I am apocalypse myself?_

“You insult me thinking my words are some sort of jest?” Loki queried, infuriated at the woman in front of him.

“No, Loki. I believe you entirely,” she turned serious, leaning toward him with her elbows propped up on the table, their noses barely an inch away from each other.

“I just don’t know how your threat would pan out if I could do the same to you first.” Calypso stated, taking her coffee and sipping from it, crossing her legs, keeping her eyes on his the entire time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always appreciated!
> 
> Happy Easter, or something. lol


	3. Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating once again! Hope you are enjoying so far. :)

That night, Calypso lay in bed, numerous thoughts running through her mind. She turned on her side and looked at the blinking neon lights of the digital clock on her bedside table. _21:00,_ it read. Quite early to be in bed, she thought. But, she has nothing else to do, just like all her first few days in a new city. She mentally debated with herself on whether to go for a drink or not. A certain God of Mischief crossed her mind. _The chances of him being in a bar same as I would be one in a million,_ she tried convincing herself. However, she has not fully made up her mind, realizing that it was probably not a coincidence that the same God of Mischief was in that same coffee shop earlier that day.

She sighed to herself and decided to leave before she changes her own mind. Calypso was convinced she was sated enough to cause any kind of trouble tonight. After donning her hair up, she suited a leather jacket on top of her gray v neck shirt, and slipped on her pair of army boots. She headed to the pub she passed by earlier that morning, not too shabby and pretty informal over all—just a couple of teenagers and what looked like regular customers to her. She went straight to the corner of the bar and immediately craved for her usual drink—a whiskey, careful not to draw unwanted attention to herself.

A male bartender walked up to her, leaned toward her direction, waiting for her order with a smile.

“I’d like a—“

“Hey, darling, I got you.” She turned to the man who cut her off who was taking a seat beside her and received an unwanted wink to her direction. Calypso’s face twisted in disgust and she did not bother to hide it, earning a smirk from the bartender.

“Can you give me a beer and this sexy lady a—what do you want, honey? A vodka sprite?”

“What I want is to be left alone, _thank you._ ” She sarcastically replied, turning her attention to the bartender—only to be pulled by her arm towards the same sardonic man who rudely stole her attention from ordering.

“Well, listen here, _honey,”_ he seethed, immediately pulling his hand back from her arm, clearly hurt in some way. “What the f—?”

The bartender leaned closer towards the bar and pulled the man by the collar. “I don’t want you causing trouble here for the millionth time, Felix.”  

Felix pushed his hand off him and fixed his shirt with a shrug, walking away with his beer towards his friends who received him with jousts of laughter and jeering.

“A glass of Jameson on the rocks, please.” she shook her head and muttered a quick ‘thank you’ to the bartender who nodded in response, still wondering if it was just mere coincidence that Loki was present where she was.

 

A couple of drinks and hours later, Calypso could feel the buzz and slipped out the back of the bar to head home. She paused for a moment and leaned against a wall in the alley, gathering her wits without passing out.

“That whiskey was a bad idea.” Calypso muttered to herself. Her conversation with the bartender, Klaus, dragged the entire night and she would not have realized that she was on the verge of passing out if Klaus did not touch her.

She faintly remembers Klaus’ hand gripping her wrist, convincing her to head home because it was heading late and he was closing the pub early. Turns out Klaus was a part owner of the place and took well care of it and its customers. Klaus seemed really intellectual, albeit different from all the other people she had encountered in her travels. They had a few laughs and more drinks as the night passed and Klaus had to hold on to her for support before he doubled over from laughing. Calypso then realized the lack of pain from Klaus and realized she was losing her grip—power. Just like that, it felt like a train hit her and knew she was quite in trouble—losing her grip on her abilities only on two occasions, when she meditated and when she got drunk.

Calypso tried not to trip on her feet as she made her way home. _Only a few blocks away,_ she thought. Pulling her jacket tighter against her form, she focused on dragging her feet step by step, as she heaved consciousness into her. She started regretting the moment she left her bed, imagining how amazing it would be to feel her sheets—

“Calypso! Wait up, baby!” She heard a gruff voice say. She turned her head around and saw a man running towards her, almost stumbling in his tracks. Calypso couldn’t register the man’s face at first but realized it was Felix.

His arm went around her shoulders and leaned his face towards hers, pulling her closer. “Come on baby, I know you were just being hard to get.”

Her nose flared at the smell of alcohol in his breath as he talked. Her nose scrunched up in disgust and tried to push him away, her mind and body unable to coordinate anything else. She felt Felix’s hand travel down her bum and turning her to face him. “Get off—“

It was the worst time for a shut down and she knew it, her adrenaline kicking for a moment, giving her the ability to kick the ankle of the drunken man groping her.

“Why you little b-bitch!?” The drunk man stuttered.

She ran –at least tried to run, or what seemed to be more of a wobble away from the limping man heading her way. Calypso was 2 blocks away from her flat and she could not muster her voice to scream for help. She was grateful he was drunker than she was and could not quite keep up. The wind was whipping against her face and the cold air was biting against her skin.

_Don’t look back, keep running,_ she thought.

Her head was spinning and her eyesight was getting blurrier by the second. No matter how hard she convinced herself not to, she looked behind and saw Felix a few feet away from her before he stopped dead in his tracks, making her trip in surprise.

She waited for the impact and closed her eyes for her impending doom.

It never came.

She slowly opened her eyes once again, the streetlights blinding her and she saw the shadow that caught her fall, strong arms supporting the weight her legs couldn’t.

 

“Run along now.” A deep voice hummed as she lost consciousness, followed by the faint sound of hurried steps against the pavement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Responses are appreciated! Thanks for reading.


	4. Coincidence

_‘I was scared of dentists and the dark,_

_I was scared of pretty girls and starting conversations.’_

“Ugh... Hell.” Calypso muttered her hand shooting up to her head as she felt a throbbing that crept up drilling her like a jackhammer. The sun was seeping through the tattered blinds past the windows. The sound of the typical pitter patter of heels on the pavement outside and the few cars that passed by had irked her. She groaned at her radio alarm as well and reached for it by her bedside table almost knocking down the glass of water beside it. Her wits returned upon realizing the mess that glass of water could’ve made. Rubbing her eyes, she swung her legs to the side of her bed and—

“How did I?” Get home, she wondered. Trying to remember the scenes from last night made her head ache more. She couldn’t recall her way home, _I probably passed out,_ her thoughts wandering to the man without a face who saved her. “Maybe he brought me home. But how?”

She stared at the glass beside her alarm and saw the note and pill that accompanied it.

It read: _‘It is unknown to me whether someone **like you** has need for medication such as this but we could not take chances now, could we._

_Midgardians are such fragile creatures.’_

In perfect script, the perfect insult. It was not even signed but even this scrap of paper emitted the arrogance she knew only one person could possess. She took the Advil and wondered how “apocalypse” can still be affected with such earthly frailties. As she swallowed the pill and felt the water run down her throat, she grabbed the note and placed it in her coat pocket, taking a mental note to smack it at the face of the author. Somehow, by any means, she’d eventually come across the arrogant god and she was sure of it.

 

The streets were almost empty at this time of the day. Reykjavik’s day time shorter than most, the moment the sun was gone, people were as well. Calypso walked down the pavement hastily as she always did, her hand clutched at the note in her pocket, her head kept low. She could hear her own soles clapping against the ground, accompanied by another at a slower pace and a distance relatively far from hers. She lowered her speed and tried not to look behind her, listening closely for someone else’s footsteps. _It stopped_ , she thought. She was being shadowed and she knew she had to get away. Picking up her pace, she pulled her hood up to cover her face and readied herself for a sprint.

It has been almost a week and they haven’t found her. It has been the longest time for her to be alone in a country without being located by the meddling soldiers that tried to arrest her. Her eyes squinted around the area in search for an escape. The brick walls of each building whirring by her eyesight. No one can help her, not now. She could not fall prey to their experiments yet again, and she would do everything in her power to avoid the clutches of these men.

Calypso turned a sharp right into a corner only to be pulled into a narrow alley, her captor’s hand shooting up to his mouth a finger to his own lips, signalling her to keep quiet. For a moment, she noticed the hissing that came from his lips as he let go of her hand. Quickly masking his own pain in the urgency of the situation, Loki kept quiet. The shadows barely concealed them and her eyes frantically searched for answers in his. She could see the light blue eyes that shined in the dark, illumined by what the streetlights could reach. The footsteps moved past the alley they were in and it disappeared gradually. He moved away from her even within the tight space they were already in.

“Loki?” Her voice confused and surprised, relieved. “What in hell?”

“I saved your life, yet again.” As always, his cockiness emanated and it enraged her.

“I did not ask to be dragged into this alleyway now did I,” her eyes raging. “Nor did I ask to be saved, especially by you.” She wondered how he got there at the right place and time. She wondered how he was always there at the most unexpected and expected circumstances.

“There is no need to be hostile.” He spoke calmly. “If you could kindly lead the way to your home.”

“And where did you get the idea that I would let you in my apartment?” Aggression never faltering in her voice, her eyes never leaving his as well. His eyes filled with fire and purpose as the words that left his mouth that gave her the lack of protest.

“It was not a request, Calypso. And frankly, it would be in your best interest to stay off the streets where S.H.I.E.L.D cannot locate you.” The lack of sarcasm in his voice had convinced her to start walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have updates updates and more updates! Sorry for the delay yet again. 
> 
> Feedback is appreciated. :)


	5. Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you there'd be updates. lol this is the last one I'll upload for now since I have not finished the next few chapters.

Calypso unlocked her door frantically; keeping her eyes peeled the entire way home. It was exhausting how she was on her toes, taking each step carefully and looking out for any tricks the Asgardian could play on her. It was on instinct, never to trust anyone, not even herself. Survival is what she called it. But this sort of survival had its toll.

She stepped inside, Loki following closely behind her, his hands clasped behind his back. He donned a similar suit, still sporting the striped green scarf he had that day she bumped into him. It was unusual for Calypso to have guests in her house except for the typical break ins of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. With that, she didn’t have much courtesy to offer, gesturing a hand toward the tattered couch for Loki to sit on.

He observed her meagre apartment, setting himself on the arm of the seat she offered him. It was not his first time entering her home and he was sure she knew that. The first time he was here, he had hurriedly set her on her bed, surprised that he was not burning upon contact with her skin. That first time had made him disregard the details of his surroundings; the earthy feel of her home, the minimal furniture and how everything is somewhat dusty save for the couch and the tables. It seemed that everything here was pretend and it bothered him. Shaking those thoughts off, Loki’s eyes wandered to Calypso’s. His eyes met hers as she leaned against the edge of the door to her bedroom, silence passing by at what had him feel like years. Neither of them spoke up, each one anticipating the other. Loki sensed her hostility every time she was around him. He would not have it any other way. They were both dangerous on their own and he would not risk his plans thwarted by this unique human, no matter how he appreciated her skill—and form.

Calypso did not miss Loki’s eyes seemingly undressing her slowly, curating her body, and observing the way she stood casually against the wall. “Why did you save me?” She spoke up, cutting the air of silence between them.

“You were in trouble.” He answered coolly, a smirk painting his face.

She scoffed at him in disbelief, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “I don’t believe you.”

“I cannot impose what you want to or refuse to believe, love.”

The air around him is arrogant, that she could believe. That arrogance comes off with the foundation of power. She knows it well even if she tries to deny it—Loki is powerful, more if not as powerful as her, despite their difference. He was not merely arrogant because he can pull it off well, but he knows as much his abilities dominate. It pulls her in. It continues to pull her in. Calypso had not noticed him holding his arm protectively, before she realized he had been hiding it the entire way home. She walked into the bathroom, leaving Loki with a confused gaze, only to come out carrying a plastic box with what Loki saw a red cross in the middle.

She spoke no more, only stepping in front where he sat. She knew she could not control her abilities well but it was not impossible, doing it momentarily whenever she willed it, but not for long. Loki had not stopped gazing at her since she stepped in front of him, standing just eye to eye from where he sat on the armrest. Calypso took peroxide from the kit, a wad of cotton and gauze. She faced him, took a deep breath and carefully moved her hands to take his.

Panic set in his eyes, not showing it at the slightest bit of movement but his chest was filled with apprehension. He was not entirely sure Calypso would not hurt him. But, he knew she was not a fool to do so.

She finally breathed out, somewhat in a hurry. And for what felt like eternity, Calypso finally touched his wounded hand. He waited for the pain to rise but nothing came.  The burning from her skin was not present.

“Please don’t interrupt me. I cannot keep this for quite long.” Loki did not know what she meant by that second line but he stayed still. His eyes set on the girl who had her gaze avoiding his the entire time, focused on mending the wounds she had caused him. She bit her lower lip as she tilted the bottle to pour the liquid on his hand. The peroxide made him wince upon contact, but numbness was all he felt afterwards. Funny, he thought, how a simple task enamoured him to stare at the girl before him. He admired the way her small hands quickly yet surely wrapped his hand with the gauze, the warmth of her skin a slight tingle on his.

The spark left as soon as it came and Calypso stepped back as sudden as it did. She picked the kit and went to the bathroom to set it down.

Loki was admiring the work she made on his hand. “I heal faster than Midgardians.”

Her brow rose at his statement, crossing her arms once again, realizing how it was simple of her to think that a god would need mending. “That was my fault—“ She tried to compensate.

“But I would be a proper tit if I did not thank you for it.” He spoke, cutting her off.

The feeling of his sincerity gave her an uneasy feeling. Calypso nodded only in response to his gratitude and appreciation. This was unusual of Loki, she thought. She knew most men would not have said this without an ulterior motive, albeit sincere. His next words only proved her presumptions.

“My plans have been compromised because of you.” He started, turning his eyes away from his hand and back to her. “But, I have a proposition.”

 

Loki had not left her home the entire day she refused to go out. The panic and exhaustion from the previous day has run her dry quicker than she expected and it was taking a toll on her. As fast as her energy runs dry, her powers lose their effect. Maybe that was why she had been at ease when she controlled it as she mended Loki. They had not spoke the entire night, Calypso locked herself in her bedroom and she did not know whether Loki had left ‘til that morning.

Calypso finished shower and clothed herself, stepped out of the bathroom only to almost stumble down, her head spinning. Loki stood up as fast as lightning, moving to catch her fall only to be greeted by her pulling herself away from him. Her hands shot up to her head, rubbing it. She had to get out of here, she needed _food._

 She hastened and walked out of the apartment, in hopes to find _something_ or at least _someone,_ to devour. Her feet dragged behind her as she hurried down the streets in search for something to quench her need.

Loki was dumbfounded and left in the house, and inside he would not stay.

 

_Was that concern?_ She thought. Maybe it was him being a proper royal, taught and trained to be an aid to a damsel in distress, chivalry and all. _He almost caught you if you had not brushed him off. He touched you knowing the consequences and because of that he saved you from those agents._ She shook her head at her thoughts. For a moment, she had actually thought the Norse god could have concern for someone like her.

She stood up from where she was crouched low in a secluded warehouse outside of the main city. She felt livelier.

She felt so much energy.

She felt guilt.

He was young. She was ravenous. He wanted her money. She wanted his energy. He threatened her. She took his life.

She stood up, brushed off and straightened her clothes from her he had fought her with all the energy he had. It was slow and painful and Calypso knew that. Brushing her hand through her hair, she heaved the cold air that filled her lungs, looking around the darkness, filled with fresh power.

“Well, that was unsightly.” A voice spoke beneath the shadows.

“How long have you been—“ She sounded surprised. Calypso did not catch his presence anywhere the moment she left the apartment. In such a hurry, she did not notice anyone follow her down the alleyway to the warehouse as she led her victim away from civilization. It was almost perfect, too perfect, she realized. “You.” It was him who deviated everyone else from noticing her or her plot.

Loki was curious as he has always been. Curious of the magic that filled Asgard with no one else left to practice and utilize besides him and his mothe—Frigga. It was curiosity that led him to this vast knowledge of the realms and the search for power beyond the Realm Eternal. Curiosity as well that led him to stalk Calypso and see what she could truly be capable of.

His curiosity has answered yet another one of his questions. _How vast are her abilities?_ And an answer was supplied.

“You should stay away from me.” Calypso said, turning her back from him, ready to storm out of the warehouse.

“I would rather not, love.” His voice stopped her in her tracks. She lightly leaning her head, anticipating words yet to come. But, nothing followed those five words. At least nothing she wanted to hear. Loki thought of all the ways he could use her powers against S.H.I.E.L.D. and on a bigger picture, Asgard. Playing  her would be easy as playing all women had been.

“I can help you control it.” His best bet. A tug at her heart strings.

“You can’t.” She retorted quickly. She has been living with this curse for almost 20 years, 7 years after she discovered it. She tried to help herself. She had S.H.I.E.L.D.’s help but nothing improved. No one can possibly help her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED. :) Thanks a lot for reading.


	6. Bargain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have come back. Thank you, Tiana, for messaging me.   
> I still have no excuse for the months delayed updates.

The day seemed endless. Calypso sat on the seat across the sofa where Loki lie, legs spread across and beyond the furniture, his legs almost hitting the lamp. He donned an olive sweater and black pants. His head hung at the edge of the armrest, a smirk playing on his lips as he laid out his case. “I didn’t expect S.H.I.E.L.D. to be here this soon.”

He spoke casually, the deep throaty accent capturing her and keeping her still as the words flowed like a song in her ears, “It would be best for us.” No matter how sinister his demands might be. “To stay together.”

“How are you connected to them?” She asked meekly. Calypso did not recognize the submission in her voice.

“I believe you have heard news of Mexico? Aliens, renaissance faire as they would call it?”

“I have.” So that was him. Asgardians coming to seek a relic that no human could obtain. It was because of them that S.H.I.E.L.D. started to pursue her more fervently than before.

Calypso observed Loki. She stared at home his lean chest moved up and down to his breathing. His eyes shut and arms crossed like his long legs. Her breath hitched as she admired his perfectly chiselled cheeks, a pointed nose and a smirk that gradually grew on those thin lips.

“I believe a photo lasts longer.” He mocked. She ignored his jests, but he followed it with a query. “Why Calypso?”

Nobody had ever asked her that, why she was named that way. Maybe because she never had friends to begin with. The agents trying to capture her know her abilities and had associated her name appropriately to this as well. “I am Apocalypse. The entirety of it.”

“Do tell.” He whispered, genuinely interested in the origin of it all.

She wondered what had given her the boldness to tell him the story or to even take him home. This Loki, this Asgardian, this Norse god in her apartment, lounging on her couch, and even conversing with her, were all situations she would have never imagined in her life.

“Born to normal parents or at least I thought they were normal, or my real parents.” She chuckled in mockery, to herself. “I didn’t know my powers would reveal themselves when a tranquilizer shot had gone wrong. At 7, the tranqs had less and less of an effect on me and on a typical day, I’d be passed out, unaware of the experimentation I was going through. I had pretty much lost all memory those months they’d experiment on me. But, then I woke up, angry, in pain, surprised, and I saw my parents holding a syringe and I completely lost it. I touched them once and—yeah. You saw what happened to the guy in the alley.”

“Took on the name Calypso after S.H.I.E.L.D. called me Apocalypse on my first encounter with them.” She turned to him to see his reaction.

There was no regret in her voice. Calypso had always believed they made her like this; transformed her into this cursed creature she loathes. She felt disgust in her own skin but she felt relief as she told her story to him. Loki listened intently, sincerely interested at what she has to say and impressed.

“It was just death at first, the worst of it all. One touch and I could take the very life force from anyone. Growing up, I discovered more of this curse I have and yeah, pestilence at 13, I can make anyone sick. War at 18, at my very rebellious stage during an encounter with S.H.I.E.L.D., I had escaped by making them shoot each other. And the cheekiest one, famine at 21.” She sighed, faint flashbacks beckoning to her.

“Well, that is quite a story.” Loki chuckled. “I’m impressed.”

“At what?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D., you, at the numerous times they have tried to subjugate you and miserably failed.” He looked amused and truly impressed at her. “You would be a prized ally.” He breathed.

“I can kill you, you know.”

“Not if I kill you first,” he countered. A grin in his lips as he licked it. “Just when I had the notion we were to make do without the threats, Calypso.”

“It is not as empty as it sounds, Loki.” His name rolled on her tongue easily as the threat did, the sound sparking him up with eagerness for the woman. 

She stood up and walked to the cupboards, taking a bottle of whisky and two goblets. She made her way to the couch where Loki sat and set the drink on the table. Loki swung his legs to make room for her on the seat as she poured a drink for them.

“I know and my offer stands,” he proposed again, tasting the drink on his glass. He appreciated the strong streak it left on his throat, making him finish the drink in one draught. “I will help you control these powers of yours and you will help me get rid—or at least, avert S.H.I.E.L.D.’s efforts.”

Loki had gambled on this petty proposal, hoping she would fall for it. He had not considered allies before but her abilities are unique and would be a waste to be kept locked up or destroyed by pathetic Fury before he had use of it. He just needed to obtain what S.H.I.E.L.D. stole from him and everything else—just then, her golden eyes caught his and she caught the flicker in the blue green eyes he held. Loki was not called Silvertongue for nothing. He weaved and tricked through negotiations and diplomats all too easily without a hint of lie. He never lied. He just knew how to twist words to everyone’s liking and he knew that it worked.

“You are an amazing manipulator, Loki,” she saw through him, his fake smiles and airy confidence was all but a facade to her. Loki thought it would be the end of it, except, he didn’t reveal it. He would not allow the alliance that he wanted to never start because he could not convince her good enough.

 Calypso took a long swig of her drink, almost slamming the goblet on the table before she spoke up.  “But I will accept your proposal—on one condition.”

“And what could you possibly want to obtain from this bargain of ours?”

“That is for me to ask for in the future.” She half smiled,  a hand reaching out to him.

Loki could not believe his ears. She saw through him and yet, a hand was offered to him in agreement. Her eyebrow cocked up, assuming the offered hand was a ruse, as her hand hung. He stopped an inch away from the hand she offered. Calypso felt his hesitation and assured him, “I wouldn’t tamper an agreement with another burned hand of yours, Loki. Hurry up and we’ll bring S.H.I.E.L.D. to their knees.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I hope you enjoyed reading.  
> Feedback is highly appreciated. :)


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